


When the Smoke Clears

by AngryGoblinTrash



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Fluff, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26589508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryGoblinTrash/pseuds/AngryGoblinTrash
Summary: Raph and Don have an unexpected, low-key, late night chat.Oneshot
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	When the Smoke Clears

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in ages, but here's a warmup oneshot that took me an embarrassingly long time to finish.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> un-beta'd

Heavy bass from the club below floated through the air, mixing with the far-off sirens, and occasional drunken yells from groups on the street. 

Raphael sat languidly on the edge of the rooftop, one leg dangling off the side; he sensed rather than heard the soft footfalls approaching behind him. Sighing heavily, he took a long, deliberate drag from a lit cigarette and exhaled forcefully, covering himself in smoke.

His gravelly voice broke through the embalming cloud; “If you’ve come to lecture me, Leo, can you save it for when I’m at least able to pretend that I give a fuck? I’m sure I can pencil you in for sometime next week.” 

An olive green hand settled mildly onto Raph’s shoulder, “Can I get one of those? Or were you planning to smoke the whole pack yourself?”

Raph softened; raising an eyeridge, he proffered the open pack up to his genius brother, “Go nuts. Just leave the lucky.”

Don nodded appreciatively, nimble fingers extracting a single cigarette from the pack as he settled down on the ledge beside his larger brother. 

“Got a light?”

The lighter passed from emerald hands to olive.

“Didn’t know you smoked?”

“Nicotine patches are usually more my style, to be completely honest,” the genius said followed by a shallow cough to shake the tightness in his chest. He placed the lighter down between them, “Easier to use in the lair without having Leo notice and ride my ass about it - plus they’re a good brain boost for my harder projects. I ran out this morning, though.”

Raph snorted, smoke curling out his nostrils. “You would think up a sneakier, smarter way.” He ground the smoldering remains of his first cigarette into the ledge and tucked the butt back into the pack in exchange for a fresh second. 

Don waved a hand dismissively, “yeah, but sitting on the rooftops smoking with your brother has a certain charm, wouldn’t you say?.”

A wry smile forced itself onto Raph’s face. “What’re you actually up here for, Donny?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“Nah, ‘spose not.”

“Leo didn’t send me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Raph grumbled in acceptance of his brother’s answer. The pair settled into a comfortable silence for several minutes, lungs burning, heads buzzing; a meditation of sorts.

Inhale.

Hold. 

Exhale. 

With each breath out the smoke floated above them, momentarily bright against the dark sky, before dissipating into the warm night air.

Raph cleared his throat, turning his head awkwardly, “Donny, d’you think there’s ever going to be something out there for us that isn’t..... this?”

The purple-banded turtle wrinkled his nose. “I guess that depends entirely on what you mean by ‘this’.” he raised the dying cigarette to his mouth, finishing it in one long inhale.

“Another?” 

“Please.”

Don cupped his hands against the light breeze, lighting his second. “I mean, we’ve been to other galaxies, Raph, you and I both know there’s so much more out there.”

“Yeah, I guess I mean here on good ol’ Earth.” Raph gestured out to the horizon with his free hand, “ There ever going to be anything more than the sewers for us here?”.

“I like to think so, but I’m also not unhappy with what we have now. I’ve got you, Mike, Leo, and Master Splinter, plus Casey and April and I’m finally getting my lab set up with all the bells and whistles.” Don paused for a drag, “ Life’s better than it’s ever been, no reason to think it won’t keep getting better, right?”

The red-banded turtle scowled, “That’s easy for you to say; certain members of this family don’t hate you for existing.”

“Raph, you have to know Leo doesn’t actually hate you,” Don sighed heavily, “Get fed up with you sometimes? Yes. Hate you? No…” 

A pause.

Inhale. 

Hold.

Exhale.

“But if you’re asking, I do think the two of you have been having the same argument for so many years that neither of you is actually listening to the other anymore.” 

He paused again. Raph stifled a cough and said nothing. 

“ I actually think the two of you have mellowed quite a bit over the years. You’ve gotten much better at controlling your temper and Leo is, at least in my opinion, noticeably less of a tight-ass.” 

Raphael smiled in spite of himself, casting a sidelong glance at Donatello.

The genius matched his brother’s smile, “Problem is, once the argument starts you both fall back into the ‘Leader vs. Hothead argument’ script. Nothing changes.”

Raph grumbled as he lit a third cigarette, chewing his brother’s words. “It’s just that no matter what I do I’ll never be anything to him but the family fuckup; it’s like I can’t be better no matter how hard I try” He tapered off momentarily, for another drag, “I mean, you remember how fuckin ragey Leo was after we finally tanked Utrom Shredder?”

Don nodded, “I do”

“But, we don’t bring that up. He went to the Ancient One, came back, and all was forgiven and forgotten. Why’s it different for me? He throws every shitty thing I’ve ever done in my face constantly.” His voice shook almost imperceptibly, “You just said I’ve been doing better, but does it even fuckin’ matter? Is he ever going to notice and accept that I’m trying to be better?”

“Have you ever actually said that to Leo?” Don asked gently.

Raph stiffened, “Nah, don’t think so. You know I don’t do so good with touching feelings and shit.”

“You’re doing just fine now,” the genius tried desperately to catch his brother’s eye, to no avail, “Think about it; he’s not a mind reader, and also it might feel good to get it off your chest.”

The red-banded turtle focused intently on the butt between his thick green fingers, refusing to meet Donatello’s gaze. “Yeah, maybe.”

Another silence, another cigarette. 

Inhale. 

Hold.

Exhale.

Donatello snuffed yet another butt with an air of finality. He braced his hands on the ledge, moving to stand.

Raphael grabbed his brother’s wrist, still looking down, “Wait, Donny?”

“Yeah, Raph?”

The red banded turtle faltered, “Uh, there’s only two left,” he looked pleadingly over at his brother, “You sure you don’t wanna stay and help me finish ‘em? You can have the lucky.” 

Donny settled back down onto the ledge and grinned, “I thought you'd never ask.”


End file.
